Fight Or Fright Instincts
by Thedarkknight17
Summary: A very unlucky night on patrol is all it takes to trap Batman in a mind game devised by several Gotham's most wanted, where he will be forced to fight for his very life. No OC romance here, just Batman as realistic and as dark as I know how to write it.
1. Injection

**Fight or Fright Instincts**

**By: The Dark Knight 17**

I own nothing of Batman, from the first comic to the latest movie, they are entirely someone else's creations.

**Summary:**

An very unlucky night on patrol is all it takes to trap Batman in a mind game devised by several Gotham's most wanted, where he will be forced to fight for his very life. No OC romance here, just Batman as realistic and as dark as I know how to write it.

**Authors Note:**

Its been a year since I have touched this story. I am now just starting to update it and revise the previous chapters. Please read or re-read it and give me your thought!

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**-Part 1-**

**Injection**

The tumbler's sister vehicle made swift work of Gotham's underground network of roads. It was proving to be an oddly calm evening for the city's Dark Knight. False alarms had been triggered at several different locations including the Gotham First National Bank and a jewelry store, and they ended up being nothing to be concerned about. Faulty wiring was the main cause of at least one of them, and it would not have been the first time that the GCPD scared an amateur thief or two away before any damage was done. Unfortunately, these days the police were also looking for him, and not to shoot the breeze. Taking him down was now a top priority. The Batman tended to keep a greater distance between the shadows he sought refuge in and the loaded rifles the officers carried. He was about to turn in for the night, and would most likely have been headed home if it weren't for a rather strange noise disturbance that had come through over the radio not fifteen minutes ago. It was reported to be taking place at Gotham's Zoo, and that was simply too out of the ordinary for Batman not to go and investigate. After all, Arkham Asylum was just across the river from the gated location that housed the animal displays.

"I'm almost at the city limits; I should be arriving at the zoo shortly. I'm sure I'll be fine. Don't wait up." The dark knight's gruff voice cut through the silent rumble of the vehicle's engine.

"Very well. I will work on unpacking some more boxes before I retire, Master Wayne. Good hunting, sir." His old friend's voice chimed back. He knew Alfred understood how difficult his "night work" had become, so the butler tended to argue much less about his returning home later and later into the early morning. Moving back to Wayne Manor was becoming a very challenging task in itself, and he was glad that instead of pacing a hole in the floor of the bat cave, Alfred would be able to keep his mind occupied.

The great concrete walls of the Gotham zoo grew larger as the tumbler approached it's main gate. As a child he remembered coming here often with his mother and Alfred while his father was away at the hospital. The lion's den was his favorite exhibit. Tonight, however, in the eerie glow of the full moon, it possessed a rather menacing aura. He drove around the back of the compound, parking in a well hidden truck dock where animals were most likely shipped in and out of the facility.

With the flick of a switch, the Tumbler's overhead hatch slid back, and the one known as the Batman lithely jumped out of the driver's seat before the bullet proof glass slid securely back into place. The night air was cool on his exposed face, and clouds littered the sky, swirling from time to time in front of the moon, casting everything in a black darkness. He easily picked the padlock that secured the animal handler's entrance and proceeded forward with caution. Red security lights were periodically placed along the long halls that branched out to the left, right. There were even under ground tunnels, that he assumed, were in order to reach the more secluded animal habitats. Above him, at least in some areas, grates in the plastered ceiling allowed the white light of the moon to enter the corridor. Water dripped and echoed somewhere in the distance, but other then the steady splashing, sheer silence saturated the place. The call that had gone out was just a noise complaint, but it had come from only two blocks away from the zoo, quite uncommon, even with the grunts, roars and calls of the wide variety of animals. Besides, gunshots are not in anyway a common noise heard in a place like this.

Batman moved silently through the passage way passing locked door after locked door that most likely harbored the zoo's sleeping wild inhabitants. Once deep in the bowels of the facility, he finally came to a slightly rusted steel door that was labeled with white stenciled letters. The spray paint had grown faded, most likely with age, but the words, "Big Cats" were still clearly discernable. A lock had been burnt through with some sort of acid, and the door was slightly ajar. He could still smell small remains of the corrosive material in the air.

Opening a compartment on his utility belt, he took a quick swab of the material before placing it in a small vile. He would test it later, but before he had a chance to return it to his belt, something shifted behind him. He turned his head around, expecting to confront whatever it was that was there, but found nothing. Just an empty hallway bathed in a red glow. Pushing the door open cautiously, he slid into the room. Several sets of yellow eyes watched him carefully from behind thick walls of glass. The cats were awake, but the room was a dead end. Who ever had been here was long gone by now. A pipe at the end of the wall was broken, and some kind of steam had begun leaking into the room filling it with a thick fog. He moved over to inspect it, and judging from its jagged edge, it had been cut. There was also some sort of glass canister that the gas seemed to be diffusing from. Batman reached into the pipe to grab the strange object, but his fingers never reached their desired destination.

He felt the sharp needle as it was thrust between the Kevlar plates and into his neck. The Dark Knight jerked away in surprise catching his assailant with his elbow. He turned to apprehend his attacker, who was now cursing with the pain caused by a blow to the head, but the room had begun to spin violently. He needed escape before he passed out, so he took off at a run, sprinting at first then jogging. He soon slowed to a walk, what ever had begun coursing through his body was making him sick. He paused for a second, dry heaving roughly, and he was glad, for once, to have skipped dinner. He passed identical door after door, turning sharply, climbing small sets of stairs, and he quickly began to lose hope of escaping, until he finally made it to the surface.

The cool air made him shiver as it touched his clammy skin, and he clumsily climbed back into the safety of the tumbler. Sirens could be heard in the distance growing louder. The GCPD were on the way; he would need to leave it up to them tonight. He set the auto pilot and was soon on his way back to the manor.

Bruce Wayne drowsily removed Batman's cowl and placed it on the passenger seat, freeing his hands up to examine the injection site more carefully. The mishap at the zoo would have been nearly undetectable were it not for the tiny pin prick of blood that had dried where the needle had entered his skin. While the computer navigated the way home, he clumsily removed a first-aid kit from behind the driver's head rest and began drawing his own blood. He could, through his blurring vision, just make out the first rays of the sun's light on the horizon. Bruce was growing anxious; he wanted to test it as soon as he arrived back at the cave. What ever was now in his system was most likely never meant to be inside any zoo animal, let alone a human being.

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A newly revised chapter. If you liked it, or see any area for improvement please leave a review, KIND construstive criticism is very welcome. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter!


	2. Raindrops, Roses, Whiskers

Here's the next chapter…

-Part 2-

Raindrops, Roses, Whiskers

Bruce awoke slowly, his muscles and bones groaning in protest after falling asleep in such an awkward position. Bats screeched silently in the depths of the cave as he carefully massaged his neck; after all, a computer keyboard tended to make the worst kind of pillow. Glancing around, he slowly took in the blood filled vials and cringed remembering just what had happened to him only several hours ago. All testing had been negative. He sighed and stood shakily from the chair he had spent the night in. His armor felt heavy today, suffocating even; he needed to get it off. Methodically, he began removing Batman's Kevlar plates. When he had finished, he pulled on a pair of soft cotton sweats. The billionaire then proceeded to drag himself to bed, where he easily fell into a deep slumber despite the bright rays of the sun that lit up the sky just beyond his room's heavy drapery.

It was dark, and beneath his armor, his muscles ached and burnt under the strain of supporting himself. Large cats paced around him, their hungry eyes trained on his blood soaked wounds. Three male lions and one lioness took turns snapping viciously at his heels as he clung tightly to a solitary vine suspended from the enclosure's ceiling. Families watched through glass, pointing and laughing. Suddenly, as if the very plant was against him, it began to unwind itself, lower and lower. He kicked out violently, but was too late. The crowd cheered as the lioness lunged first, her green eyes mere slits, her mouth spread wide, flashing two rows of sharp blood stained teeth…

It was a woman's voice that startled him out of his hellish dream, and he quickly got up from where he was laying.

"Find me… you have to find me…" It beckoned invitingly. Her soft seductive tone tugged at the very heart of him, but all Bruce could see were black shadows swirling wildly about him.

"Tell me, where are you?" He called back loudly, pleading that she would answer him, and she did. She sighed smoothly, and his resolve melted, the blood thirsty cats all but forgotten.

"We are where it is never winter and always spring… the rain falls up, not down… the crows won't bother us… and you can always see inside our home? Come and find me… we are waiting." She whispered and he could feel her sweet breath on his own lips. Roses… it smelled of roses.

"Come now…" the voice was growing stronger and stronger, but it had lost all of its seductive loveliness.

"Come now, Master Wayne I've let you sleep long enough…" Alfred's voice pulled him away from the dream's pure bliss faster then a freight train, and he woke up with a jolt causing the older man to also jump.

"Alfred… how may time have I told you, when I am thrashing around in my sleep it's best to… well it's best to wait to wake me up." Bruce mumbled softly, his head in his hands as he worked to control his heart rate.

"I beg your pardon, sir, but you were sleeping quite soundly. My apologies, but it is getting to be quite late in the day." Bruce glanced at the clock and groaned. It was four o'clock. He had already missed an entire day, and the night loomed ahead of him once again.

"It's ok Alfred, no harm done." Bruce said as he carefully planted his bare feet on the cool marble floor.

"Did something… happen last night, sir? I just finished cleaning up the soiled containers and bandages in the cave, and was just wondering if perhaps you were ill." Concern was evident in the words, and Bruce did his best to cover all the tiny bruises that now dotted the length of his left arm. Despite using his dominant hand to make the needle sticks for blood, finding a vein in a moving vehicle on oneself would have been tough enough for even a medical expert. Bruce Wayne was many things, but he was definitely not a phlebotomist. He sighed as he felt the blue eyes of his oldest friend bore into him waiting for an explanation. It was times like this that he once again felt like the bad child who had tracked mud into the house and was in need of reprimanding.

"Last night, I was attacked and injected with an unknown substance… I ran all the usual tests and even some rather rare ones, more than once, yet all the results have come back negative. I feel great now, but the effects I felt when whatever it was hit my blood stream made me dizzy, nauseous, and disoriented. I still have no clue as to what is now inside of me; whoever stuck me with the needle is still a mystery as well, for that matter." The younger man shook his head as his worrisome thoughts quickly came rushing out.

"All will be well, Master Wayne. If anyone can solve this puzzle it is you, although I do hope that you took a swing or too at him, sir." Alfred suggested trying to lighten the mood. He was the one who normally did the worrying, and having the roles reversed was a bit unsettling.

"Well, I managed to hit my attacker on my way out, but…" Bruce paused, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Alfred you're a genius!" His eyes lit up, and without another word he threw the sheets off his lap and headed straight for the hallway.

"Master Wayne, I always knew you would one day see the extent of my brilliance, you might even try to take my advice and…" Alfred paused, realizing he was all alone in the room, talking to himself. He shook his head, "Perhaps _I_ should go on a nice relaxing vacation."

As soon as he made it to the floor of the cave, Bruce quickly got to work locating the scattered pieces of the bat suit, placing them on a scanning platform. When they were finally assembled he took his seat located in front of three 120 inch LCD monitors.

"Computer, analyze Kevlar plates for foreign biological contaminants." The new computer system installed in the bat cave was capable of understanding several thousand voice specific commands, as well as possessing unparallel analytical and researching capabilities. The world's most advanced technology known to date was at his fingertips. If Bruce could find out anything about what had happened last night, he would be able to with this multi-million dollar piece of equipment.

In no time at all, his suspicions were confirmed. The words "Contaminate located", were plastered all over the three screen monitor. The complex machine then proceeded to isolate and identify the material. A breakdown of the substance in the form of a 3-D model was soon projected on a small platform located near the main keyboard. Platelets, plasma, a matrix… blood, and blood was sure to have traces of DNA. Bruce began furiously pounding away at the keys.

Suddenly, there it was, a positive match.

Leonard "Leo" Jones, age 35, a husband and father of two, employed as a maintenance man… it was the next line in Jones's profile that hit him harder then than a ton of bricks ever could have. He simply couldn't believe what he was seeing. He read it outloud several times, and ground it out slowly, just to make certain he was seeing it correctly.

"…Current place of employment…Arkham Asylum."

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Hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think.


	3. I'm The Crow's Greatest Enemy

Wow! I can't believe how long it's been! I found this chapter the other day in my documents and got the sudden urge to finish and post it. Sorry it has taken me so long to get back to it!

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**-Chapter 3-**

**'_I'm _The Crow's Greatest Enemy'**

Arkham… anywhere but that maniac ridden hell. Batman, himself, had helped put half of Arkham's inmates into the asylum's padded cells. Many of it's inhabitants were twisted masterminds, and it was here that whatever he had been injected with was originally synthesized. The answer to this mystery would eventually be uncovered in the black towering walls of Gotham's hospital for the criminally insane, but first, he needed to know just what he was getting himself into.

"Address, 1437 West End Avenue, Apartment 9... Not very far from crime alley." Bruce mused as a flood of memories and emotions threatened to spill over. He quickly suppressed them, pushing them back behind an iron door in his mind. Tonight, however it seemed particularly hard to do. He needed to crush them swiftly; these kind of feelings only caused him pain and longing, something he desperately fought against experiencing. He had felt it enough in his lifetime; he liked feeling numb to it. His ability to suppress all emotion was like a self supplied artificial high; he felt powerful and in control. He learned long ago how to chase away the nightmares that had for so long hunted him. Rachel had been the most recent scar he was trying to cover up.

"Rachel…" Bruce shook is head, clearing his thoughts. His mind was wandering off tonight; not a very safe thing for it to do. He would need intense focus in order to find Mr. Leonard Jones tonight, after all "Leo" had some serious explaining to do.

Outside, thunder rumbled loudly, causing the very foundations of the Batcave to quake. Bruce Wayne ignored it; the storm would just make sticking to the shadows that much easier.

Ignorance, unfortunately, is not always a source of bliss, and Gotham's hunted knight, being no exception to the rule, was forced to learn the hard way the mother nature is nothing to scoff at. Lightning violently split the sky, illuminating his way as he struggled to grapple from ledge to ledge. The rain pelted his face, and for some odd reason an awkwardly strange emotion began to overcome him as the building's slippery footing grew more and more treacherous.

He was…nervous. It was so out of character for Batman, and his thoughts raced as they fought with this all but foreign emotion. He paused, landing unsteadily on a fire escape shrouded in darkness.

Anxiety, no fear, was in this situation completely… irrational. Suddenly, something clicked.

Fear.

That was the root of the hopelessness he had felt the night before as he escaped the dark maze of the zookeeper's passageways; the reason for the hundreds of tests he had adamantly performed more than once on his blood because he was afraid to miss something. The nightmare with the snarling beasts, his apprehension to be so near to Crime Alley, and finally the unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach that now replaced the relaxed almost blissful nostalgia that normally accompanied him on his nighttime patrols.

It had to be fear toxin. There was no other explanation.

The chemical is hard to isolate because of it's natural biological compounds. The immunity he had been granted by Lucius Fox's antidote the last time he had been exposed to the Scarecrow's venom was obviously beginning to weaken. The toxin's effects must have been very subdued because of the lingering immunization's effect, making his symptoms harder to detect.

Police sires roared to life in the distance, and his heart pounded rapidly as he shrank, deeper still, into the shadow.

'Don't Panic…' He thought to himself. He needed to keep a level head; Adrenaline was known to feed the toxin, only speeding up its impact on the victim's nervous system.

He needed the antidote and he needed it now.

"Alfred, check the medical storage room for fear toxin antidote." Batman growled softly into the cowl's built in radio transmitter. He did his best to disguise his anxiety.

"It is here; is everything ok, sir?" Alfred's reply echoed back, concern evident in the older man's tone.

"It is for now, have it ready for me. I'm turning back early tonight, I don't feel like myself at all." Bruce whispered as a chill ran up his spine. He was fighting the internal urge to simply stay on the fire escape of the abandoned building, alone, where he was safe.

"Shall I come and get you, sir?" Alfred quickly suggested, he was worried about the restrained tone in his charge's voice.

"No, Alfred. I'll be fine." Batman assured him, once again taking over and suppressing the fear.

"Very well, Master Wayne. I will be waiting for you to return. Please have a safe trip home." Alfred sighed, for once, he would not be forced to worry about his charge into the early morning hours, Bruce would be home within the hour.

Taking in a deep breath to calm himself, he took to the sky once again in the opposite direction of his once intended target's home. Panic raged inside of him as he swung perilously from building to roof to ledge. He felt so close to the location of the tumbler yet so very far away. Suddenly, his fear getting the better of him Bruce lost his focus, his balance, and his boot, missing his intended target, slipped right off the rain-slicked pitch coated roof. He was falling… falling, and there was nothing he could do. Thoughts raced through his mind. Closing his eyes, he submitted to the dread and waited for the imminent impact. With a resounding thud, Batman landed roughly on the concrete pavement of the alley below. A nearly silent grunt of pain escaped his lips as his right hip, back and shoulder took the brunt of the fall, knocking the breath he had been holding right out of his lungs. Bruce thought he could hear Alfred's voice, but it sounded so very far away. Even the biting rain no longer seemed as cold anymore as his mind swiftly began shutting down.

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Feels great to be back! :) Hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing!


	4. Falling Into Madness

So I originally had this chapter written out completely from start to finish. Unfortunately, I didn't like where it was going, so I deleted the whole thing and started again! Hope I made the right choice…

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-Chapter 4-

Falling... Into Madness

Leonard Jones backed his black E-350 slowly into the alley way. Quickly switching off the van's headlights, he roughly jammed the shifter to park, and unbuckled his seat belt. He jumped nervously as the metal clanged loudly in his left ear, signaling that the buckle had run finally out of slack. Grasping violently at the breast pocket of his blue janitor jumpsuit, Leo shakily picked out a single Salem Light, and using the lighter from the van's console, he managed to ignite the slightly damp end. Sitting there in silence, he simply watched as the windshield wipers clawed furiously at the glass window before him in a effort to clear away a massive amount of rain water. He took a deep drag on his cigarette and held it in for what seemed like an eternity before slowly exhaling. The engine still hummed loudly in the background as he once again repeated his ritual. In and out… in and out. Leo anxiously peered into the rear view mirror. Every time he did, the picture was always the same; just a glimpse of an unmoving dark form through steady rivulets of water that blazed trails down the two tinted glass panels.

Was he really going to do this? The more appropriate question, however, was how much more would he have to do until he was free? Before last week, he truthfully didn't have any opinion on the subject of Gotham's vigilante, and now he was ready to hand the damn guy over. It was just one little hit, now he was not only a slave to cocaine; he was a slave to his supplier. She did have a quality product, some of the best shit he had ever shot up with, but something about this deal wasn't sitting to well with him. He used to be a good man, a family man, but the failing economy and a quickie divorce had simply been too much. Now, if he went through with it, he would really be no better then Judas. Just like handing over Christ, only his silver pieces were nothing more than an ounce of tiny white granules in a tiny plastic baggie. He tried to feel anger about his head still being sore from the other night, but he failed miserably. After all he was the one who had provoked the attack. Hell, he might as well change his name to Brutus, he though as he easily snuffed out what was left of his smoke, tossing it into a pile of old news papers and empty burger wrappers that resided on the floor of the van's passenger side . He unlocked the doors, and, having made up his mind, slid without any more hesitation into the darkness to open the van's rear doors.

Rain drops bounced and rolled effortlessly off of his light brown overcoat as he stood over the Batman's still form. He had been following him discretely all night from the streets below and his patience had paid off. Leonard bent down and grasping the heavily armored Dark Knight under the arms he began dragging him toward the hulking black vehicle. He stopped abruptly, however, as the cold steel, that could only belong to the barrel of a gun, was pressed firmly into the back of his head. He immediately dropped his load, eliciting a barely audible groan of protest from the unconscious vigilante as he contacted with the pavement yet again.

"Pick him back up, put him in my back seat. Now!" the faceless man demanded. Leo didn't dare turn around to look; he had no intention of having a bullet lodged in the back of his brain. Damn this storm, he might have heard the other car's engine if it hadn't been so nasty out. Without any resistance he once again picked up his unmoving burden, and began moving it from his intended destination to this stranger's black pick-up truck instead. He was shaking now, the labor and his nerves getting the better of him.

"Give me your keys." Leo did as he was told and nearly messed himself as he felt hand cuffs being slapped on his right wrist. He couldn't go to jail, or worse be killed. Even though he was divorced, he would never get to see his kids again if it all ended here.

"Give me your other wrist, and don't even think about turning around." The man's accent was implacable, but his determined tone told Leo not to test him. His assailant guided him back over to his own vehicle. Leo broke out into a cold sweat. Fate really was cruel and Karma really did exist. He waited for the trigger to but pulled. It never came. The gun's wielder, instead, pushed him roughly into the back of the van and before he could get a look at his assailant, the doors were slammed shut behind him. He looked around, and to his surprise found the keys to the metal restraints laying on the ground next to him. Leonard sighed, 'Screw the deal', he thought to himself. He was done with all this shit. Done. Tomorrow he was going to quit his job and call a helpline; after tonight's mess, he wanted to get clean at a rehab a thousand times more than that cruddy minimum wage job at the loony bin anyway.

The masked man nearly jogged back to the black F-150. He climbed into the drivers seat, started the engine, threw it in drive and left the scene. Alfred carefully weaved down 7th street narrowly avoiding a rather seedy looking couple as they weaved drunkenly across the soaked asphalt paved street. The old butler pulled the black ski mask off his face and chanced a glance in the rear view. No one seemed to be following them, but it was hard to tell for sure. He would have to make a few detours.

The truck jerked sharply to the left.

Bruce moaned quietly in back seat as he was forced to take weight on his injured hip and shoulder to compensate for the motion of the vehicle. He kept his eyes closed; his breathing a series of unsteady labored pants. Every time he chanced opening them, a new demon was there to torment him. That war painted soul deprived clown had already invaded his thoughts more times than he had been able to handle, so he simply kept them shut. He knew Rachel would be the next ghost that visited him, but she really was dead and gone. It was his fault.

He was losing himself. He didn't even know where he was or who he was with anymore. He only knew he was moving, and he truthfully didn't care. He was hurting too. Every inch of his body and mind hurt, and the constant ache was all he knew to be real. The sharp pain throbbed to the very beat of his heart. His head was swimming now, and the movement of the truck as it accelerated and turned made everything feel a thousand times worse.

Floating now… Bruce managed to get the cowl off his head with shaky hands. Yes, floating wasn't so bad anymore he decided as his damp hair came in contact with the cool black leather of the back seat. His body finally relaxed as darkness once again claimed him.

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The truck finally came to rest in a very familiar underground cave.

Alfred struggled as he carefully managed to slide his charge from the truck's back seat onto the waiting stretcher. He couldn't help but be glad that he had finally been able to talk Bruce into purchasing the portable medical bed. God knew he needed the help. The old butler calmly and methodically began removing Kevlar plates in order to administer the fear toxin antidote, and he closely watched the syringe empty as he pushed the plunger down. He sighed. 'So much for an early worry free night' he thought sardonically as he tossed the needle into a sharps container built in to the medicine cabinet. Covering Bruce with a heavy blanket, Alfred began his long nightly ritual of cleaning up.

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Fingers drummed softly but rhythmically in the dark room. It was way past two AM and still he waited. He knew he could wait an eternity, Mr. Leo was not coming tonight, or any other night. Anger surged through him, and his fingers twitched eagerly as they found what they were looking for. He violently tossed his barely touched diner tray across the shadowy void. It slammed into the bullet-proof plastic viewing window and clattered loudly to the concrete floor. As a dim light filled the hall of the cell block, he could see the remnants of what was supposed to be roast beef and mashed potatoes slide down the clear surface. He smiled, watching the foul meal race itself to the floor. Would the gravy made out of jell-o be able to beat the paste like potatoes substance to the cold ground? He grinned at his absurdity, and a giggle slipped out.

"Shut it!" The order that came from the maximum security guard was meant for him, but another chuckle escaped his lips. He knew it was too late, he couldn't stop now. He thought of the Bat now, knowing the fit of madness that would soon over take him would only be fueled by this thought. He thought of the Batman crazy, like him, out of his mind insane with fear. It made him deliriously giddy. He though of him writhing in pain, ripping his hair out by the roots with horror.

All the lights were on now, bright and blazing. The beating was about to commence. The door unlocked and he imagined the batman standing there in all his darkness and fury. He gripped at his sides but to no avail, the laughter doubled him over as the first fist came flying. His eyes began tearing up from the sheer joy and pain as it blended together into an indistinguishable entity. This episode of hysterics simply could not be controlled, and he roared with laughter as they hit him.

So many friends he had made during his stay here. So many helpful friends…

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That was a really hard chapter to write for some reason. Please review and give me some feed back. Kind constructive criticism as always is very welcome.


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